This is an open and unfiltered diary-style journal
on the life of James Robert Smith.
This blog will contain sometimes graphic experiences (both beautiful and ugly),
sometimes stark insight, and all honest and factual documentation of dreams, diet, activity, and thoughts.

Pages

Saturday September 10 2011

All day shift at China Wok.

Pluot Plum. Banana. Orange Juice.

Strutting my new kicks Margot thoughtfully custom ordered for me a month ago…I don’t know how much longer these relapses will take place between her and I. I’m worried. And I’m feeling uneasy about a lot of things right now…

Wow. I dived into a deep ravine I knew nothing about, unprepared, unplanned. Just utter adventure and zest powered my plummet. I am all alone. I choose to be. And I will continue to be. It’s amazing the amount of trust you place in others—in something, and even more amazing how easily you can be stripped away from people. But none of this makes sense and I’m not sure how to explain how bummed and depressed I feel today. It’s only a test. Suffer. I choose to suffer.

I don’t want to lose my hope in real people. But I’m on the verge…prove me wrong.

I need something angsty and cathartic. Smashing Pumpkin’s “Jellybelly” and “Zero” never gets old. While I drive around I’m sure the people in the cars next to me don’t know what to make of this dude flailing his arms, air drumming and screaming…

My insides feel sick…all through out the day during the delivery trips, when I knock on the customer’s doors, when I’m counting money. Nervous. Afraid. There’s a grey rain cloud hanging over my head. There are moments when my eyes start to well up from this rain cloud. Why am I so affected by things? Sudden rejection. Sudden anything. I feel. I feel so intensely. Just plug it, Robert. Relax. Have composure. The idiocy on the road—the traffic—does not help medicate but only fuels the uncontrollable state I’m in….

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein. Summer Ale.

I need expression—I need to express but I’m stifled—forbidden. I want to love. I want to vomit out this love all over your face…

Recording some tracks at the storage unit—finally feeling a little bit productive.